


Shitty Parties

by orphan_account



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Pre-Slash, Social Anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-22
Packaged: 2018-06-09 22:40:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6926758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He didn’t even want to be here, but Pete had practically begged him to go. Pete even <em>knew</em> that his social anxiety was bad, he <em>knew</em> that he was gonna have a hard time, but he <em>knew</em> that he couldn't say no. Pete, who just ditched his this-close-to-panicking best friend. Fuck Pete.</p>
<p>Or, in which Patrick gets rescued by Joe from a crappy party.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shitty Parties

A fucking party. Patrick was, well, on the edge of flipping the fuck out. He could not do this, nope. Every but of his body screamed at him to run away, his brain kept telling him that everyone was watching him and judging him and hated him, and he just wanted to go home. He didn’t even want to be here, but Pete had practically begged him to go. Pete even _knew_ that his social anxiety was bad, he _knew_ that he was gonna have a hard time, but he _knew_ that he couldn’t say no. Pete, who just ditched his this-close-to-panicking best friend. Fuck Pete.

Patrick felt like there were a hundred thousand eyes on him as he ran to the empty room next to the one he was in. He finally could breathe, emptying his lungs completely and filling them up again. He was so focused on calming down that he didn’t notice the other person there.

“Are you okay?” Patrick nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of the other boy’s voice. “Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you!” He stood up straight from the wall he was leaning against and walked over. He had short, curly, brown hair with one pink streak in it, bright blue eyes, and was taller than Patrick. Patrick blinked, unsure what he was supposed to do and he could feel the panic starting to come back. The other boy stopped a few feet in front of him, as if he could sense that he was getting too close for Patrick’s comfort. Patrick wasn’t sure if he was supposed to say something or not. The other boy wasn’t saying anything either, so Patrick was trying desperately to look anywhere else and not feel awkward. However, he had succeeded at neither and wished that a freak bolt of lightning could strike him down right then. He felt himself slide to the floor, the heels of his hands pressing into his forehead.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” The other boy asked, crouching down in front of him. There was kindness in his voice and he seemed like a nice person, so Patrick forced words to come out of his mouth.

“Too many people.” He looked up. The other boy was nodding.

“Anxiety?”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll be okay. I can take you home if you want? I have a car.” Patrick’s eyes widened. Riding in some stranger’s car? Oh god, all the bad things that could come out of that. But he wanted to go home so badly. He nodded and the other boy helped him up. He was still shaking though, and he felt like such an inconvenience. The two of them wove through people to the door. Patrick caught a glimpse of Pete, but he was pretty much certain he hadn’t seen him.

“I’m so sorry about this,” he apologized when they got outside. He couldn’t keep the guilt in.

“It’s fine, it was shit party anyways. There was a reason I was in the empty room.” Patrick nodded but didn’t feel any better. “I’m Joe, by the way.”

“I’m Patrick.”

“Nice to meet you, Patrick.” The other boy--Joe--pulled a pair of keys out of his pocket and walked over the crappiest car Patrick had ever seen in his life. One of the doors was bungee corded on.

“This is my pile of shit that still works on roads miraculously,” Joe said, motioning to it with his hands as if it were some grand thing. Patrick giggled a little bit, grabbing the handle and pulling the passenger side door open. He climbed in. Joe did too, shoving some stuff into the back seat. “Where to?” Patrick gave him the address. “Wow, you live all the way on the other end of the city. Why were you here?”

“My fucking asshole of a best friend.” Only friend, to be completely correct and honest. But Patrick didn’t want to be that person. Joe made a small oh sound.

“Who’s your friend?”

“Pete fucking Wentz.” He laughed.

“Oh dear lord, I am so sorry for you.” Patrick smiled.

“He’s not _always_ an asshole. He just tends to be one a lot.”

“Yeah, I’ve known him for a while, he’s a real dickhead when he wants to be.”

“How do you know him?” Patrick was surprised that he was able to make conversation.

“He was in some band I was in and he’s a pretty well known guy around Chicago’s hardcore scene.” Patrick, if he didn’t have such bad stage fright, would be in the hardcore scene, drumming for some band that has a cool name or something. “You into hardcore?” They started talking music, which Patrick loved doing, since that was pretty much all he was besides a ball of nervous energy. They’d made it quite a ways when Patrick finally said what he’d been thinking this whole time.

“You know, I don’t have to be home till midnight and it’s only 11,” he said cautiously.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m kind of enjoying hanging out with you. Also I’m kind of enjoying the ability to have a fucking normal conversation with someone that isn’t my family or Pete.” Joe smiled and turned at the next light.

They ended up in some diner that Patrick didn’t recognize and were eating fries that were perfectly cooked (crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside, and salted to the point where you could feel your arteries clogging up), talking anything and everything. And somehow, they ended up on coming out.

“I’m bisexual, yeah,” Patrick said, dipping a fry into the little ketchup cup.

“I am too.”

“Really? That’s funny.”

“Yeah. Best reaction was Pete. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh god, Pete was hilarious when I told him.”

“Did he have a fake heart attack--”

“--and then said ‘I can’t believe it...he finally said it’, yeah.” Joe pointed in agreement, mouth full of fry. They were laughing so hard.

“He’s such a weirdo.”

“He is.” Patrick just happened to glance at the clock on the wall, and upon looking at the time he stood up. “My mom is gonna murder me if I’m not home soon.” Joe stood up too and the two of them were back in his shitty car heading back towards Patrick’s house, still talking. When they got there, Patrick thanked him for the ride and got out, planning on just walking up to the door.

“Wait!” He turned around to see Joe scribbling something quickly on a piece of paper and handed it to him through the window before saying goodbye and driving off. Patrick watched him go before uncrinkling the paper. On it was a phone number and a little note. He read it and smiled before walking inside. 

_^^ this is my number if you ever need another rescue from a shitty party or if you just wanna hang out-- Joe Trohman-- ps this is lame as hell but you have nice eyes_


End file.
